The Curse
by Leigh Hayley
Summary: You might have to read another one of my stories before you read this one. But, once you read the first chapter, you'll know exactly which one...
1. Chapter 1

Sam pressed the pad of his right thumb against the throttle of his newly required motorcycle. The engine roared and slid into the left lane, passing the Sunday driving Jaguar in front of him. The bike had too much torque in it to go so slow and sometimes Sam felt he couldn't stop the motorcycle from going fast even if he tried. The vibrations of the machine coursed through his body from the tip of his booted toes to the very top of his head. The wind rushed through his ever growing hair and he sent up a silent thanks for the present state having no helmet laws.

He pushed his aviator sunglasses further up his nose and used the same finger to point at a bright red convertible full of hot girls as it whizzed past. The girls giggled and waved back at the stranger, wondering who he was and where he was going.

_I'm Sam Winchester, ladies. _He said to himself. _And I'm going wherever the hell I feel like._

The youngest Winchester brother had been out on his own for over two months now, sometimes hunting monsters, but mostly just exploring. Riding through the country without a single care in the world was something he'd always wanted to do. And hunting simply because he felt like it instead of because he had to was an amazing experience as well. When he wanted to stop, he stopped and when he was ready to ride on, he packed his little overnight bag, tossed a long leg over the bike and took off.

And the best part was that he didn't have to answer to anyone but himself.

Sam closed his eyes for a quick moment and took a deep breath. The hot desert air of Arizona filled his lungs and he reveled in the warmth flowing through his chest. Off in the distance, the sun was beginning to sink behind the dark mesas surrounding the valley. It would be only minutes before full darkness enveloped him and he needed to find a place to stay for the night. He passed a welcoming Bed and Breakfast sign just as the solar light beneath it powered up. He smiled, noting his ever growing fondness of Bed and Breakfast facilities.

_Thanks to an old friend…_

He pulled off at the next exit ramp and headed north for about a mile until he found the place the sign spoke of. A cute sign outside still said "Vacancy" and he sent up another quite, "thank you".

Just as he threw his left leg over the side of the Harley, his cell phone buzzed against his hip. He pulled the phone free of the clip on his belt and answered.

"Hello?"

"Sammy," a familiar voice sent a shot of liquid warmth straight to his toes as a smile curled at his lips.

He hadn't heard from her in weeks and he'd missed her. Every part of her. Especially her voice. She had quickly become his best friend, second only from Dean, of course, and an instant extension of their small family. She had filled the hole in his older brother's heart and had warmed his own as well.

"Where are you?" she asked, as she always did. "And when are you coming home?"

He hadn't even thought about it in over a week. He hadn't really wanted to head back to Bobby's any time soon, but somehow every time he heard that voice, he instantly wanted to end his weary travels, turn around, and go back.

So it was decided. He'd had enough, for now at least. It was time to go, as she called it, home.

"Tomorrow," he said. "I'll be home tomorrow, Kenna."

-That's right. You asked for a sequel to The Compound...and here it is. Please review.


	2. Chapter 2

An un-manicured hand slid over the cold metal of a gun. The woman it belonged to pushed her long blonde hair back over her right shoulder and let the waves cascade over her bare arm. She reached down and rubbed a sore spot on her butt from sitting down on a nail that hadn't been hammered into the porch well enough. She winced when her finger touched the spot and she silently cursed the home's owner.

Her fingers caressed the gun's metal, smearing the blood that still remained there. It was the same blood that still caked her skin and the rough tips of her hair. Another successful hunt. One of many, in fact. But it was beginning to get old. The constant long car trips. The never ending lack of sleep. The inexhaustible amount of bloodshed.

Yes, it was beginning to get old. And for the first time…it was beginning to get to her.

"Kenna."

She lifted her head and followed the familiar, deep voice. Her eyes met his mud and blood soaked boots first and continued up onto his dirty jeans, sweaty t-shirt, and finally his strong, green eyes. They were eyes that she could lose herself in. Eyes she felt safe looking into and wanted to continue to look into them forever, until they were cloudy and surrounded with wrinkles.

"Hey," Kenna whispered and tried to smile.

Dean moved forward and knelt down next to Kenna. He tapped her leg with his knuckle and jerked his chin at her. "Scoot," he grunted.

Kenna moved over and allowed him to sit next to her on the steps of Bobby's front porch. Without a single word of asking permission, Dean took the gun from Kenna's hands and placed it on the other side of him, away from her.

"I could practically hear you thinking all the way inside, babe," he said. Kenna chuckled nervously and refused to look at him.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, softly.

Kenna wanted shake her head and say "nothing," but Dean would know better. He always did.

"Don't you ever get tired of all this?" she questioned, softly. "Don't you ever get sick of the long car rides, the rituals, and the amount of money we spend on detergent to wash all the blood out of our clothes?"

"I'd probably like that money to be used for extra beer, maybe, yeah," he answered quickly. The corner of Dean's lips curled and a soft chuckle that quickly died rose up from his chest. Kenna was serious. And Dean had been suspecting her insecurity for weeks now. She had yet to say anything, and he knew better than to ask questions first. He had to wait until she chose to come to him and say her piece.

"I'm tired, Dean," Kenna whispered. "I'm just…I'm tired."

Her shoulders slumped and her head drooped forward. She looked like a woman defeated. Dean had never seen Kenna like this before. And it scared him to death.

"It just never ends, Dean," Kenna continued. "I mean, hell, we've talked about it for months. All we want to do is run in and out of the courthouse for a five minute wedding and we haven't even had time for _that_."

She glanced down at the small but still impressive ring on her left hand.

Dean had given it to her almost two months ago and it was probably the most romantic moment she'd ever experienced in her entire life.

At the time they had been hauling ass to the Impala, a nest of vampires hot on their trail. They both still had blood and brain matter caked across their skin as sweat dripped down into their eyes. Dean swung a gun wielding arm back behind him and shot off a few more rounds. He placed his free hand on Kenna's back and pushed her onward, ahead of him.

"Go, go, go!" he screamed and Kenna squealed as she nearly lost her footing on the rain slicked ground. The Impala was only another few thousand feet ahead. They were almost there.

They were almost there.

Something that felt like a claw grasped Kenna's ankle and tugged. Her head smacked against the hard ground and knocked the air out of her lungs before she even had time to think. The pain didn't even register. It was fight or die time and Kenna was not ready to die.

"Dean!" Kenna screamed and clawed the ground in a desperate effort to pull free of the vampire's grasp. Dean turned back, took aim at the vampire's head and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He was out of bullets. The vampire pulled at Kenna's ankle with one hand and took hold of her calf with the other. It flipped her over onto her back and threaded its white fingers through her belt loops, pulling her even closer.

"Dean!"

Everything went fuzzy. Dean could hear nothing, see nothing except Kenna. Everything slowed down as the vampire's lips pressed against Kenna's belly and began to lick its way up her chest. Any second it was going to either bite her neck or snap it. And honestly Dean couldn't decide which would be worse.

He shook his head free of the fuzziness, lifted his shotgun above his head and brought the butt of it down into the vampire's skull. It immediately released its hold on Kenna and Dean helped her to her feet. The two took off running, but not before Dean smashed the thing's skull in a few more times, just to be safe.

The couple made it to the Impala, climbed inside and took off, leaving the rest of the vampires far behind them.

Kenna rubbed the sore spot on her head and winced. She turned her head and looked back for a moment.

"That was close," she wheezed.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Too close."

He slammed his foot on the brake and pulled off onto the side of the road. He threw open the door and climbed out, walked a few feet into the empty field beside the road and fell to his knees. Overhead, thunder rumbled and a few heavy drops of rain fell to the ground.

"Dean!" Kenna called as she rolled down the window. "What are you doing? It's starting to rain!"

Dean said nothing. Instead his hands went up into his wet, sweaty hair and combed through it. Then his head lolled back, looked to the stormy sky, arms outstretched.

"Come here," he groaned so softly Kenna almost couldn't hear him over the rolling thunder. She shook her head, wanted to say no, but got out of the car anyway. Dean grabbed her hand and tugged her down in front of him as soon as she was in reaching distance. He cupped the back of her head and pulled her to him.

"I love you," he whispered as the rain began to pour. Kenna smiled against his chest.

"I love you," he said again. "You know that?"

Kenna nodded. "Of course I know that."

Dean pulled back, reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Before she had a chance to sneak a peek, he placed it in her hand and closed her fist around it.

"Put that on," he demanded, but quickly changed his tone. "Please."

"What is it?" Kenna asked as she opened her palm with a gasp. Inside her fist was a small, but lovely engagement ring. It was a simple three stone ring, each diamond symbolizing past, present, and future. Each of which Dean wanted to give to Kenna.

"How long have you had this?" Kenna asked. Tears filled her eyes and for once she didn't try to stop them.

"What difference does it make?" Dean countered. "It doesn't matter how long I've had it. I'm just asking you to promise to wear it forever."

A tear slid down Kenna's cheek and Dean reached up to catch it with his thumb. "Marry me, Kenna," he whispered. "Please."

Kenna didn't say a word. She simply nodded, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him.

Neither one could say how long they had stayed in that field that night. Neither one cared. But both of them would remember that night for the rest of their lives.

That was almost two months ago. And they still weren't married yet.

And now they were sitting on Bobby's porch, gun in hand, blood from another hunt staining their skin, and still nothing had changed.

"I'm tired, Dean," Kenna said again. "I can understand why Sam left."

Dean nodded. It had taken him years, but finally he could understand that too. In fact, now he couldn't understand why Sam was coming back again.

"I want to go home," Kenna whimpered.

"Me too," Dean answered.

But neither one of them knew where home was anymore.

**Please Review! Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

Dean slid his callused fingers over a smooth, sterling silver and turquoise butterfly charm necklace.

Kenna had taken it off during a hunt a few days ago, given it to Dean for safe keeping, and still hadn't asked for it back yet. He had been carrying it in his pocket for three days, constantly reaching inside to stroke the chain with his thumb. For some reason, it made him feel better, closer to Kenna even if she wasn't with him all the time.

She had always said it was the most precious object she owned. As a child it had been the one thing that was truly hers and it had been made even more special when Dean had given it back to her, years later, as an adult.

It meant the world to her. Always had. Always would.

It always looked beautiful on her and Dean Winchester could never imagine anything prettier than when Kenna was smiling, looking at him and grinning, with her butterfly necklace dangling from her neck.

But it had been a long time since he had seen her look at him like that. And it was starting to scare him.

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout, boy?"

Dean looked up from his spot on the front steps and found his gaze only reaching up to Bobby's Singer's thighs. Still unused to the lack of Bobby's wheelchair, Dean readjusted his gaze until he looked up at the older man's face. Without a single sign of pain or discomfort, Bobby leaned down and sat next to Dean, a small smile curving his lips.

It was still hard to believe that Bobby was walking again. It had only been a week ago when Bobby had woken up, climbed out of bed and without even thinking, stood up and walked to the kitchen. It was only after he had brewed a pot of coffee and made eggs and bacon for breakfast that it finally dawned on him that he was on his feet and walking.

None of them asked why or how it happened. None of them wanted to jinx it. All they could do was chalk it up as a mystery.

"Eh," Kenna had shrugged as she and Dean watched Bobby dance across the living room floor later that day. "Calling it a miracle makes it more fun anyway."

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" Bobby asked again, pulling Dean back from his memories. The older man nodded at the piece of jewelry in Dean's hand.

"She still not wearin' that?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah," he answered. "She never put it back on after she took it off a few days ago."

The corner of Bobby's lips curled up. "You don't need to worry about her," he whispered.

Dean looked at Bobby and frowned. "I'm not," he countered.

Bobby arched an eyebrow and smiled. "You're not?" he asked. "Dean, I know you better than anybody, 'cept for Sam, of course, but I know when you're worryin about stuff, and right now…you're worryin' a damn hole in my porch."

Dean was almost tempted to lift his hip and look under his ass for a hole, even though he knew there wouldn't be one. Instead he shook his head, closed his eyes, and let out a long, low breath. "Sorry, Bobby," he said, softly. "I am worried about her. Kenna's been…different lately."

"Maybe she's pissed at ya," Bobby offered, harshly. "For not marryin' her."

"I wanna wait a little while longer. Give her somethin' better," Dean chuckled. "She says she'll marry me in a courthouse, bloody and wearin' jeans…but I know better. Deep down Kenna wants a real wedding. Somethin' small, maybe in a little, old church somewhere. I don't want her bloody from a hunt and wearin' blue jeans. I want her clean and pretty and wearin' a white dress because she deserves to wear that color more than any woman I know."

Bobby smiled. Dean had grown up a decade in the last few months. Mostly, thanks to Kenna. He'd had to given how he had watched as she fought cancer, angels, and her own personal demons. What they had been through in only a few months was something most couples wouldn't go through in twenty years. And as far as Bobby was concerned, if there was any man out there ready to take the plunge, it was Dean Winchester.

"Plus, you're waitin' on Sam, aren't you?" Bobby asked.

Dean nodded. "I need him to stand up with me. He loves Kenna probably just as much as I do and I want him to be there for both of us."

"But that's not all," Bobby continued. "Is it?"

Dean closed his eyes again. Bobby was quickly stripping him down, making him feel open and naked.

"I'm afraid," Dean whispered, refusing to look at the older man next to him.

"Of what?"

"I'm afraid she's going to leave me again," Dean answered, truthfully. "Kenna's been acting so strange lately, moody, restless. Like she can't sit still at all. She seems to put on a happy face just to make me think she's okay, but I know…she's not."

"Nightmares?" Bobby asked.

"Constantly," Dean answered, quickly. "And they seem to be even worse than the ones she used to have."

Bobby frowned and shook his head, wondering how much more Kenna could actually take until she snapped.

"And you think she's going to leave you?" Bobby asked.

"That's what she's always done before," Dean said. "If there's a problem, her first instinct is to run away from it."

"I don't know if she'd do that now, Dean," Bobby ventured. "She became a different person while you were gone with Michael. I watched her rise up and become even stronger than she already was. She fought, tooth and nail, to bring you back, I watched her. So I can't even imagine her ever leaving you now."

Dean took a deep breath, wanting to breathe in Bobby's words, willing them to be true.

"I hope you're right, Bobby," he whispered and rubbed Kenna's silver chain with his thumb again. He looked out, past the yard and into the woods where Kenna had gone to work on her Shelby earlier. He dropped his head and squeezed the necklace in his fist.

His voice was raw when he said, "I still just can't help feeling like there's something really wrong with everything."

**Please Review...Thank you!**


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